Dawn Treader Trailer Trouble
by humdedum
Summary: The back stories behind the anomalies of the Treader trailer. DECEMBER 2010 UPDATE! Now I'm doing Dawn Treader Movie Trouble. Should be interesting...
1. Edmund's Sword Turns Blue

_Brief note of explanation: For those of you who have indeed watched the Voyage of the Dawn Treader's Trailer, and gone off to cry in a corner, here is a tiny little fanfiction concerning Edmund's blue sword, and a couple other *coffs* things in there. Hope you like it! :)_

_Screenshot from trailer: __h tt p:/ i50 .tin ypic.c om/ 5ujv r r.j pg_

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Edmund Pevensie balanced himself precariously on the edge of the ship, watching the sky grow mysteriously greener and darker.

"Ed!" Lucy screamed and scrambled up to stand beside her brother. This movement toppled both of them off the starboard edge and they fell onto the wooden deck, heads knocking.

"OW!" Edmund glared at his sister. "What was that for? I was enjoying the dramatic screen time I'm getting here in the trailer, instead of Eustace."

Lucy stood up. "I don't care about screen time. We're being attacked!"

With that Edmund shot up and reached for his sword. Suddenly he stopped and stared at his weapon.

"It's...it's...BLUE!"

Lucy nodded. "Orcs! We're being raided by an Orc ship!"

But Edmund didn't notice. "It's so tacky! It's so...tacky!" he sputtered, running across the deck to Rhince. "I need a new sword! Someone bring me a new sword!"

While they were by the weapon room, Lucy ran in and reached for Susan's quiver, thankful that Caspian had thought to bring it. She figured her sister wouldn't mind, after all. "Besides," Lucy tried to assure herself. "Father Christmas really meant for us to share all our gifts." She fitted the quiver around herself and came back out.

Orcs were now spreading onto the ship. Was this the unfathomable fate Lilliandil had warned them about? Lucy fit an arrow to her, er, Susan's bow and brought down an ugly Urak-hai.

Then Lilliandil shot down from the sky, exploding the rest of the Orcs away in her brilliant blue UV light.

"Lilli!" Caspian ran to hug her. "You saved us!"

Ramandu's daughter stared at him. "Susan Pevensie called. She wants your commitment back."

"Susan...?" Caspian's eyes grew visibly wider. "Um...what Susan?"

"The Susan I saw while spying on you for years while in the sky," Lilliandil said, tapping her foot on the deck. She slapped him across the face and then shot back up into the sky.

Caspian stared longingly after her, tracing her path with a finger in the air.

"Did that finish off the Orcs, then?" Lucy asked, still seeing little yellow-rimmed dots in front of her eyeballs from Lilliandil's glow.

"It did," Drinian said, speaking for the mute Caspian. "At least for now."

Edmund pouted. "That just cut into my screen time."

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~


	2. Caspian Changes His Accent

"Caspian! It's so good to see you again!" Lucy said. Her clothes were still dripping wet, but she didn't notice that for the moment.

"Luthy! Edmundth!" Caspian smiled and them.

"Um…" Lucy took a step back. Since when did Caspian have a lisp? "Is something in your mouth?"

"Oh…thawt," Caspian turned a little pink. "Thee, I'thve been working on getting ridth of my Telmarine ackthent, and tho I'thve been trying ditherent ackthenth."

Edmund pinched his lips together as if the lisp might be contagious. "I'm not sure if that's a better choice," he said finally.

"What'th wrong with it?" demanded Cathpian, I mean, Caspian.

"It sounds…" Lucy tried to be diplomatic about it. "It doesn't sound very kingly, if you get my drift."

"No, I'thm not getting your drifth," Caspian frowned.

"The accent is utterly ridiculous," spoke up Drinian from across the deck.

"Ith not!" Caspian shot his crew member a look. "I'thve been getting leththonth from the betht teacher in the world!"

"But the accent doesn't 'sell' you," explained Rhince. "You need something sexy…like some kind of foreign accent."

"American accents are nice, Your Majesty," mentioned Reepicheep.

Caspian thought about it, weighing what his teacher tried to teach him versus what the King and Queen were telling him.

"You should try it," Lucy said.

"Thawt be a wicked idear," C aspian nodded after a moment of silence.

"Wicked? Did someone call me?" Jadis peeked her head around the corner.

"Sorry, no, it's just a Boston thing," Edmund said. "Shoo. Shoo." The White Witch nodded and went back away from sight.

A silence came upon the ship, and only the drip of Lucy's and Edmund's clothes were heard.

"Mah goodness," Caspian exclaimed. "Ah shawld get ya some new clothes, eh?" He smiled, proud that he no longer had a hideous fake Italian accent, and led the Pevensies towards the cabins.

"Caspian, do you think you should just stick to your old accent, so our fans won't be confused?" Edmund said.

"Aw, nah," Caspian laughed. "This here new accawnt ought to be a blinka for a new Caspian, ya sah?"

"Um…right. I see." Lucy looked at Edmund, who just returned the look and shrugged.

They stepped into Lucy's new room and paused for a few seconds. Lucy looked at Caspian.

"Perhaps you should get another speech teacher?"


	3. The White Witch Goes Green

Eustace made a face as he dug up his wet belongings from his pockets in his drying clothes. "These are ruined," he pouted.

"Stinks to be you," Edmund said.

Eustace shoved the things into his cousin's hand. "Throw these out. These are useless now."

Edmund left the cabin, not even minding taking an order from Eustace. At this point, he really didn't care. Edmund was taking all of Eustace's screen time anyway, so it was almost fair. He was Edmund the JUST, after all. He looked around the deck for a trash can, and then headed for the barrel that said "Dispose at Next Docking". For a moment he paused to see what exactly his crazy cousin kept in his pockets, then dumped the stuff into the barrel.

Almost immediately green smoke began to trail through the ship and a loud voice shrieked, "RECYCLE, YOU INSOLENT FOOL!"

Edmund jumped and turned around, coming face to face with none other than Jadis, the White Witch.

"Whoa, lady, get a grip. I just threw something out," Edmund began.

"You have no respect for the environment anymore?" Jadis challenged. Her green eyes glowed even brighter and greener.

Edmund looked around and took in her eyes and the smoke. "Um...you're going green?"

"What I'm doing," snapped the White Witch, "is protecting the Ozone layer of Narniaverse."

"I wasn't aware we had an Ozone Layer," Edmund said.

"We won't have one very soon if you insist on not recycling!" Jadis replied.

"Hey, it's not a big deal. It's just my cousin's junk. So can you please leave, or at least change the subject?"

The White Witch was silent for a while, then abruptly changed her approach. "Go green...and I can make you a king."

Edmund rolled his eyes. "I AM a king, remember?"

Jadis looked honestly surprised at that one. "Um, no, I don't recall you ever being a king..."

"Oh, that's right. Of course you wouldn't know. That's because you DIED before I ever became king," Edmund said.

"But I came back," Jadis answered, looking devious. "Did I not?"

"Yeah, you did. And I killed you. Again."

"Oh...yes, that..." Jadis winced, as if this was a rather sore subject for her. Then her eyes lit up. "But I can make you much more..." she wiggled her fingers tantalizingly.

"Like...what?" Edmund tapped his foot on the boards, now looking annoyed and confused, but mostly annoyed.

"Um," Jadis stumbled. "I can...make you...something big! Like...the ruler of...a cool land...like...like..."

Edmund sighed. "Do you think you can just go now?"

The White Witch's eyes narrowed, but the green smoke stopped filling the deck and cabins. "Fine. But mark my words, boy: I will be back..."

"When I call you? That'll be...never."


	4. Lucy Waves Frantically At a Wave?

An explanation of the "By Jove" and the inserted quote into parenthesis inside a quote: I was reading VDT, then writing the story, then reading more WDT, and writing some more, etc. etc. ;)

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Her hand jolted as the Dawn Treader went over a wave, and Lucy's hair ribbon went falling into the sea.

"By Jove!" she exclaimed. Her brothers like to use that phrase a lot, and by now it was growing on her.

She walked up and down the deck, pacing the rail, trying to devise a semi-safe plan that involved hanging upside-down with her toes and and getting her ribbon before it drifted away. As she was staring at the water, she saw a flicker of white.

"It's a wave! No, it's a rip tide! Wait, I think it's a water tornado? No way! It can't be. It must be..." she stammered.

Rhince couldn't help but overhear her. "Queen Lucy, I couldn't help but overhear you...," ("That much is obvious," stuck in Lucy)," but I believe that is one of the Sea People."

"Sea People?" Lucy looked confused. "Since when are Sea People transparent?"

"Since FOX took over," answered Rhince dryly. "At this rate, though, I wouldn't be surprised if the King fell in love with one." His voice dropped. "Do NOT tell His Majesty I said that."

"Um, wow?" Lucy said, and then reconsidered. Actually, at the rate he was going through girls, she wouldn't be surprised much either.

Rhince and Lucy stood there watching the Sea Woman swim alongside the Dawn Treader. Lucy wasn't even thinking about her recently lost hair tie until it floated back into site.

"My ribbon!" she called down to to Sea Person/mysteriously and humorously person-shaped wave. "Can you please get my hair ribbon?"

The Sea Woman smiled and waved, evidently not understanding the young queen.

As if saying it louder would somehow break the language barrier, Lucy yelled again, "MY RIBBON! PLEASE GRAB MY RIBBON!"

Lucy began to wave frantically, gesturing to the ribbon, then to herself, then to the Sea Person. Her hand began to feel tingly.

The woman smiled as understanding crossed her face, then grasped the Lucy's hair tie.

"Thank you-" began Lucy, but then the Person nodded in thanks and swam away with the ribbon.


	5. Snow in the Library

"_It was about a cup and a sword and a tree and a hill, I know that much…" - Lucy, Voyage of the Dawn Treader_

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Lucy quickly flipped past the beauty spell and began to read the next story. She found herself enraptured in the magical world, kind of like how Narnia fans get the glazed-over look after doing a 7-book reading marathon.

"A house cup!" Lucy murmured to herself. The story was about an orphan boy who lived with his 'Muggle' aunt and uncle, and went to a school where he learned to use magic. The illustrations showed a boy with dark hair, green eyes, and perfectly round glasses. "A tree!" Lucy read about the Whomping Willow.

Unbeknownst to her, a camera was taking a front shot of her gripping a ripped-out page.

It was a map. It took up the whole page, and little red dost saying "Snape" or "Dumbledore" were moving about. Lucy wondered if the map could take her anywhere.

She touched a finger on a place called "Hogsmeade" and instantly, snow began falling. The area around her changed, but the stand and the book stayed put.

Another girl with messy hair came up and stared at her. "Are you in Hogwarts? How old are you?"

Lucy blinked. It was Hermione, from the story! "Oh, no, see, I was reading a story…"

"You're a witch?" Hermione wanted to know.

"I am most definitely NOT a witch!" snapped Lucy, offended.

"Then how did you get here?" Hermione frowned at her. Then her companions came over: the one with the glasses, and the ginger.

"I had a map - it was moving dots," sputtered Lucy.

"The Mauarader's map!" the one with the glasses jumped and looked around wildly. "Do you have it?"

Lucy reached out her hand, and then realized she no longer held it. "I had it! Right…"

"Where did you get it?"

Lucy felt like an idiot. This was the main character or the stories! "Harry Potter?" she asked outright.

Harry looked a little green. "How do you know my name? How did you get the map? How did you get here?"

Lucy remembered the book, still in front of her. Snow had drifted onto the pages, but she wiped the flakes off. "All I did was read this book."

"Did you?" the ginger picked up, or at least attempted to pick up, the book. As he dropped it back down, the pages fluttered, and Lucy felt her surroundings replaced by the library, the last thing she heard being, "That was _heavy_!"

Lucy tried to go back, but the map faded. Oh well. Maybe she could ask the Magician how to enter Hogsmeade again.


	6. Welcome to Lilliandil's Island

"We need to find Ramandu's Island," commanded Caspian.

"There is no such thing, Your Majesty, on the map," Drinian replied.

Rynelf was messing with their compass, then finally threw his hands up in the air. "So tell me, King, how are we supposed to find an island that doesn't exist with a compass that doesn't work?"

Caspian looked a bit stunned at the outburst of his loyal crew member. "Well, I believe our ship is close by to where the island approximately is."

Edmund bumped Rynelf out of the way, who fell in a heap on the deck. "Caspian, I believe that's land right there. Is that what we're looking for?"

"That might be just it," Caspian mused, stroking his new beard. Suddenly a hangnail got caught in the hairs. "OW OW OW!"

_A few lulz and minutes later…_

"Everyone off," Caspian ordered, a big band-aid now on his ripped finger. In his book, however, "everyone" meant him, the Pevensies, and Reepicheep. "Everyone" disembarked and gasped.

Palm trees swayed in the breeze, which rippled the clear waters. A few yards in, coconut trees were nestled in between other exotic fruit trees. Bright-colored birds chirped at the group. Strains on music floated by, like the music on Destiny Islands in Kingdom Hearts 1 (oh, I do miss those islands…).

"Is this…paradise?" Lucy asked.

Something came hurtling from the sky, blowing sand into everyone's eyes.

"Is this…Ramandu's Island?" Caspian corrected the inquiry.

The person-from-the-sky smiled at the king and winked. She cocked a hip towards him and winked again.

Caspian looked honestly frightened.

"Shhh," the girl warned. "There's not supposed to be a Ramandu in the trailer."

"No Ramandu…!" sputtered Edmund.

The girl winked at Caspian for the third time. "But _I_ have a name, now."

Caspian smiled weakly. "So this isn't Ramandu's Island?"

The girl struck a pose. "Welcome to Lilliandil's Island!"

This information took some time to sink in. Was this glowing-blue person to be trusted?

"Lilliandil!" Caspian thought the name sounded absolutely romantic. "Can I kiss you?"

"You must first save the world from a terrible fate," Lilliandil informed him.

"Then I can kiss you?"

"Yes, when you complete your journey. Then you can come back, kiss me, and then we can have some kids together."

The Pevensie children shuffled their feet awkwardly.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

After they dropped off Reep and the kids…

"Lilli! I'm back!" Caspian called as soon as the Treader anchored at the luxurious tropical island.

The UV-glowing girl walked over and waved.

"_SO_, can we kiss?" Caspian looked anxious.

"Why are you so obsessed about kissing?" Lilli demanded.

"Maybe because you won't let me?" the kind countered.

The star sighed and closed her eyes. "Fine."

Caspian leaned forward, glad that for once, he was the kisser, and not the stunned kissee. As soon as they connected, Caspian screeched and jumped back.

"I'm sorry," Lilliandil apologized. "Did I accidentally shock you? Being a star and all, it's tricky to keep by voltage down."

Caspian sniffed. "You burned my beard clear off."


	7. The White Tree of Gonder

(Quick note before we start: This chapter is freaking random, and I haven't written Trailer Trouble for a while, so bear with me as I try to get back to writing...)

"I saw a tree," mumbled Eustace, who was pinned onto the floor by Caspian.

"Did you see anything else?" Caspian demanded, holding the bowling ball-sized Palantir.

"How DARE you touch the King's special kaleidoscope ball!" Rhince chimed in.

"I didn't know!" wailed Eustace. "And I thought it was called a Palantir!"

"He's a fool, but an honest fool," Caspian decided, letting Eustace off the boards.

"I'm not a-" Eustace began, but then he was shoved into a supply closet and quickly muffled.

"Onward!" cried Caspian. "No, wait, let's turn around instead. I wish to visit my one, well, my second true love, Lilliandil the Star."

~OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO~

"Caspian, love!" the star greeted her lover, not unlike the way Mary Sue's tend to greet their own beau's... (but that's a whole other story)

"Lilliandil, love lets life live laughtering lilt..." Caspian ran out of "L" words rather quickly.

"Long," suggested Drinian in a whisper.

"Long..."

Everyone waited to see how he would finish his alliterating sentence.

"LALALA!"

RD blinked, then recovered. "You must save Narnia from an unfathomable fate," she said.

"What should we do?" Rynelf wanted to know.

"You must save Narnia from an unfathomable fate."

"Yeah, but _how_?" Edmund rolled his eyes.

"You must save Narnia from an unfathomable fate."

"Is she broken?" Drinian hissed to Rhince.

"I must save my love from an unfathomable fate!" Caspian declared, launching himself into a puddle.

"COME BACK HERE YOU LITTLE!" a scream brought everyone back from these pondering of the King, lying face-down in a puddle. One of the crew members was chasing Eustace, who had broken out of the closet. Some other men joined the chase, but honestly, who can take a bunch of men in little red beanie caps seriously? Like, is that supposed to be "tough" in Narnia?

"There it is! The tree! The tree, Gandalf!" Eustace pointed.

Lilliandil spontaneously combusted and imploded, then shot up into the sky.

"There it is! The tree! The tree, Gandalf!"

"I said that already," Eustace whined, then realized it wasn't a Treader member making fun of him.

A white horse galloped past, carrying an old geezer in a white robe and a little kid with a grown-up face. The horse stopped, the two strangers got off, and then they both went through the double doors that had mysteriously appeared.

-CUE GONDOR MUSIC-

-NO, THAT'S ROHAN MUSIC, STUPID.-

-RIGHT. THAT'S IT. CONTINUE.-

"Lets go in," Lucy decided, who then tromped up the stairs and opened the doors.

"Welcome to the hall of the Steward of Gondor," said a sad-sounding sentry. (ALLITERATION TIME, BABIES)

"Is Lilliandil's Island attached to Gondor?" Edmund excitedly exclaimed.

"I have no idea what you are talking about," the sad-sounding sentry soliloquized, sighing and shifting.

Edmund edited his elaboration. "Are we even ON the island anymore?"

"You are in Gondor." Denethor demanded, "But who are you?" He was dressed in a black robe (but not the awesome kind, like Hogwarts, Harvard, or Organization XIII) and had a nose twitch that even PC Caspian would be jealous of.

"We come in peace," Caspian clarified. "My name is Caspian...Prince Caspian."

Pippin pounced. "Wow! More people! Lots of people! Is it a party, Gandalf?"

"Shut your trap and siddown," Gandalf growled grumpily. "Now, Prince, what are you prince of?"

"Well, now I'm King," Caspian continued. "Call me KING Caspian. I'm KING of Narnia."

"Never heard of it," Faramir frowned - frowning fiercer than his father.

Lucy was getting a headache. "Enough of the alliterations!" she screamed.

Gandalf gaped. Pippin paused. Caspian...um, Caspian commented...on Denethor's dance! The security sentries scattered, leaving the group all alone in front of Denethor, who was demonstrating disco dancing.

"Let's go back to Narnia," Eustace entreated. "Narnia is weird, but this is weirder."

"And we have to save it from an unfathomable fate!" Rhince reminded them (w)Ryly.

"How does one get from here to Narnia?" Drinian deliberated.

"Easy!" Gandalf gossiped. "Here's a little secret between you an me about jumping world to world. Just say 'Beam me up, Scotty', and then once you're in the space ship, say 'Beam me down to whatever-land, Scotty'."

"Beam us up, Scotty," the group chanted. A blue laser beam came down and they all disappeared from the hall.

(A/N: Well, that's one way to get rid of your characters and move them around. XD)


	8. Dawn Treader Movie Trouble

"Hello, I am Coriakin." The old man nodded at the Treader crew and carried on, "I am basically your information dump."

"What?" said Caspian, who was currently rocking the purple pants and the half-up/half-down hairstyle.

"This scene wasn't in the trailers!" protested Edmund.

"Exactly." Lucy began to pale. "This is no longer Trailer Trouble."

"You mean..." Caspian blinked, and took a cautious step away from Coriakin, as if he was the essence of spoilers themselves.

Coriakin nodded. "This is now Dawn Treader Movie Trouble. The author has watched the film."

The Treader crew stood there and took it in. No more trailers, no more waiting.

It had come.

The movie.

Dawn Treader Movie Trouble.

And with it...

"SPOILERS!" shouted Drinian sharply. He began to push some of the other crew members back. "This means that if you haven't watched the film, you should leave this room-NOW!"

The men, terrified, fled the room. (And so should you. Listen to Drinian, obey Mr. Clean-um, _Drinian.)_

"We're ready," said Edmund, gulping.

Coriakin smiled and rolled out his giant map. "Let's begin..."


	9. Nazi UBoats and Handsome Blokes

"Edmund!" Lucy ran into the dining room and grabbed her brother. "We've got mail. From Susan!"

Aforementioned Edmund followed his sister up to her room and tried to read over her shoulder.

"_We were chased down by another German u-boat today_," Lucy read. "_Half of our ship was lost to sea._"

Yeah, yeah. The war was still apparently going on. So how did Susan and her parents get to America?

Lucy frowned. "Here it's smudged...oh, here we go." She squinted, trying to make out the hurried scrawl of her older sister. "_Bad news, I think I see another Nazi submarine. Good news, I met a rather handsome bloke a week ago_."

This time it was Edmund's turn to scowl. For the millionth time, he attempted to flatten down his fluffy hair. "I hope he's not two thousand years younger than her," he muttered.

Lucy reached up and began to subconsciously twirl her hair. "Su's so pretty...I bet she could get any man she wanted,"

"Probably," agreed Edmund.

"She's absolutely gorgeous," sighed Lucy, primping her hair in an imaginary mirror.

"Yeah," Edmund agreed again, completely oblivious.

"Everyone loves her," Lucy murmured wistfully. She tossed her hair back and tried another arrangement.

"Yeah," Edmund repeated.

"I'm not half so pretty." Lucy tilted her head to check her reflection in the window.

"Yeah."

"WHAT?" Lucy slapped her brother.

Edmund broke out of his fantasies about carrots and chocolates. "Something about a committee, right?"

Lucy huffed. "No. I was talking about Susan...how pretty she is."

"Yeah." Edmund stretched himself out on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

"There's no way I could ever be as beautiful," Lucy said flatly.

"You're related," offered Edmund. "Of course you two will look alike."

Lucy let out a puffy-cheeked sigh and redid her hair again. "How do I look like this?"

"Like...my sister." Edmund raised an eyebrow. "Are you feeling all right?"


	10. Ow Ow Boom Chica Bow Wow

(Humdedum's note: This chapter is provided to you through the generous service of my older sister, account GLIMMEROUS. Give her a round of applause!)

Lucy flailed about in the middle of the ocean, looking around for her brother and cousin while simultaneously trying to avoid the ship that was coming her way. It would kind of stink to enter Narnia, and then get squished (I don't know how ships "run over people". Maybe they'd just hit the front of the ship and explode into millions of pieces, I dunno. Ask a Marine) by a presumably Narnian ship. She sucked in her breath as another wave brought her underwater. Something grabbed her, and suddenly she was gasping in the bright sunshine. She turned around to see…

"…Caspian?"

Well, it looked like Caspian. Except, way more attractive.

"Hello, little lady!" Caspian flashed his pearly whites.

By. Jove.

OW OW BOOM CHICA BOW WOW.

"How did you…when did you…?" Lucy wasn't sure how to ask, "When did you get so hot?" without sounding creepy and/or awkward. Luckily, being near an incredibly good-looking bloke, she got the usual symptoms of Attractive Man Who Is Uncomfortably But Comfortably Close By Syndrome: muddled mutterings and strange sounds.

"Mgahaablah," Lucy replied.

The cameras completely ignored the rescue of Edmund and Eustace, as all the audience was really interested in was Caspian in a soaking-wet shirt. Well, at least the female population of the audience. And maybe some of the male.

Um…moving on.

Edmund looked at The Epitome of Male Pulchritude That Was Caspian and sighed (not in that way. Get your minds out of the gutter). He supposed he wouldn't be the next Narnia hunk in this movie. A shame, since Peter had about two seconds of screen time.

It was a good thing that Caspian was such a wonderful distraction, since the whole movie lacked character development, a strong plot line, and snappy dialogue. To heck with the morals of the story and good messages! Caspian was one fine specimen of a man. And he got a lot of screen time. Talk about an improvement from the awkward flippy hair, awful Spanish accent, and awkward nose flares. Now his beard-thing (it's a not quite a full-out beard, but it's not a moustache…quite. Whatever it is, it looks good) balanced out the potentially girly hair, bringing out his nice bone structure and…

The Author will stop.

It's a shame Susan didn't appear in this particular chronicle of Narnia. She would have had a hay-day.

Well, Susan DID appear. But no one really noticed her since she was standing right by Peter.

That's right, folks: Peter Pevensie. High King Peter the Beautiful.

Who cares if his appearance wasn't book-canon? NO ONE. He appeared, and by Jove, was it an appearance!

The Author did not really pay attention to Lucy's struggle with self-esteem scene, as Peter's Glorious Beauty was taking up about one-fifth of the movie screen. Once The Author saw Peter in a suit, everything else was blocked out.

And that was all The Author took away from the movie: two extremely handsome men. Not literally, but that would have been awesome.


	11. The Film is Totally Not About TEMPTATION

"So, basically." Coriakin folded his hands together. "There are these swords."

Drinian tutted and wiped some dust off a vase. "How can you possibly know all this if you can barely keep this library clean?"

Coriakin frowned. "I keep it quite clean, Bald Man."

"Ignore him," Caspian advised, jerking a thumb towards Drinian. "He's Mr. Clean. Gets a little obsessive."

Drinian huffed and produced a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser (tm) from his pocket, muttering about germs on hard surfaces.

"You need to find these seven swords - never mind the lords, they won't be important in this film - and then when you place them all on a table, they'll make a tacky blue light. It will shine in the sky - wait, is this a spoiler?" Coriakin wiped a of spectacles. "No, no..." he muttered, "I don't believe I'm supposed to tell you that...am I? Oh, being an information dump is _so_ hard these days."

"Having to deal with all these changes," agreed Lucy sympathetically. (Why is she sympathetic? She just totally defaced his magical book)

"Either you need to organize this mess or throw it all out!" roared Drinian, staring at the massive shelves of disorganized magical books. "Look at this mess! LOOK AT IT!" He reached for a set of books, dusted off the spines, and began to alphabetize the shelves.

"Ah...right." Coriakin straightened. He blinked a few times. "Right! I need to tell you about the themes of this film, as our viewers may very well be too daft to figure it out." He clapped his hands. "Listen up, now. You are all about to be TEMPTED. In fact, the quest for the swords will TEMPT you. You see, how the green mist of stupidity works is through TEMPTATION. So beware when you are all individually TEMPTED. Because the evil in Narnia is very TEMPTING. Got it?"

"I'm not sure I understand-" Caspian raised a tentative hand, but the magician cut him off.

"This is _my_ monologue, boy! In fact, that was probably your TEMPTATION to be TEMPTED to interrupt my important speech about being TEMPTED and TEMPTATION and TEMPTY-NESS."

Drinian scowled and wiped a smudge mark off a book stand. "Do you ever clean this place?"

"You are all about to be TEMPTED, and TESTED, and face great TEMPTATION. Remember that!"

Edmund raised his own hand. "I thought the book was about adventu-"

"Well, this isn't the book, _is it_, sonny?" Coriakin replied. "In fact, you are currently being TEMPTED to compare this to the book."

Edmund shot his little sister a look, who seemed fidgety. (She should! She defaced a book!)

"We're all about to be tested," Lucy repeated.

Coriakin squealed in delight. His point had gotten across...maybe.


	12. What Ramandu?

"So! Ramandu's Island." Caspian tested the ground with a boot. "It feels normal."

The rest of the Dawn Treader crew followed Caspian and Edmund as they walked across the messy, unkempt, overgrown, dark island.

"Oh look." Edmund pointed. "The stone knife."

Lucy, surprised, stared at him. "How would you possibly know that? You weren't even there!"

Edmund blushed and shrugged.

Caspian chimed in. "Yeah, in my history books, King Edmund was not there when the Jadis had the ston-"

"Forget I ever said anything!" snapped Edmund.

The group came to a looooooooooong table with lots of fresh food and unlit candles.

"Ooh, food." The men all perked up, and Lucy rolled her eyes.

There were cries of "can we eat it?" and "let's just dig in!" and "what if it's poisoned?".

Suddenly there was a bright blue light, and behold, a fluorescent tube came to stand before them.

"Ramandu?" guessed Lucy, seeing as it WAS his island.

"Do I look like a 'Ramandu'?" Lilliandil demanded. "No! I'm a star. The name's Lilliandil."

"You're his daughter, then," assumed Caspian.

Lilliandil looked paranoid. "No! No! There has never been a Ramandu." She winked at Caspian and tossed him a please-just-play-along look.

"There's no Ramandu?" Lucy wanted to know. "But this island is named after him."

"Nooo," howled Lilliandil nervously. "It's always just been, you know, _me_."

Edmund still had objections. "You can't just _not_ have Ramandu! It's his blasted island!"

Lilliandil gave a short, strained bark of laughter. "Oh, no, never. Never a Ramandu around here."

"If you listen closely, you can just about make out the sound of someone not believing you!" snapped Edmund.

"Heh," offered the star anxiously.

"Budget cuts!" cried Caspian incredulously. "You couldn't pay to cast him?"

Lilliandil winced. "How about: cost-efficient?"

"Low budget," insisted Caspian.

"More _affordable_," Lilliandil corrected.

"And you have a name! And where's your father?" Caspian sputtered. "This is sick! This is SICK! Stop it!" he howled.

The director and some other production workers quickly reached out and knocked him unconscious.

"Carry on," said Apted stiffly. "Nothing to see here."

Lilliandil adjusted her fluorescent dress. "Right. Um…feel free to eat."

Lucy reached for a cluster of grapes and then screamed. In a panic, everyone began to run around the island and uncover more and more sleepy old men. Good news, the men still had their swords nearby. Bad news, all seven swords were not present.

"Where are the other swords?" Edmund asked.

Rynelf shifted and was about to point out that swords were the least of their worries, because there were a bunch of almost-dead, ancient men with runaway beards sitting around a table full of fresh food. But then Apted quickly aimed a dart gun at the Treader member and Rynelf fell to the ground.

"So this quest to find the lords-" Edmund began, but then he was quickly smacked about the head by Apted. "I mean, the _swords_…"

"I am your guide." Lilliandil pumped a fist. "Whoo hoo! I have a real character now!"

"You're not supposed to…" muttered Drinian. A second later, he collapsed to the ground, a dart sticking out of his leg. A few meters away, one could hear the sound of Apted reloading.

"Listen," snapped the fluorescent tube. "In the next book, all I get to do is lie down and get bitten by a snake. The least they could do is give me a name, okay?" Seeing this as perfectly logical, the crew (what was left of it) began to eat.


	13. New Year Special: Body Switch!

Author's note: Happy New Year! As a special treat to all my amazing readers (honestly, is there any group of people who are awesomer?), here's an extra-extra-super-extra long chapter about the Edmund/Caspian body switch. At first I started to write it only to explain the wonky personality/role-switch in the Goldwater scene. Then I realized how much more in the movie it explained, and how the body is switch is really actually a whole huge story arc. Oh Apted, you sly dog! You snuck it in for us to find, didn't ya? Oh, and my older sister Glimmerous also had some great suggestions for this chapter, so thanks to her for making this story altogether even more confusing. XD Enjoy!

Technical note: After the switch, unless explicitly stated, when "Caspian" says something, we really mean Edmund in Caspian's body, and vise versa. You've read the books. You've got it sorted.

**

* * *

**

It was a regular day on the Dawn Treader.

Drinian was puttering about, cleaning up, and muttering about how the crew were living like animals, and this ship was in despicable condition, and how can a man think in this mess, and by Aslan, they needed to keep this thing clean for heaven's sake!

Eustace was holed up between some barrels, recording notes in his little book, scowling at the various men who passed by him, which included Drinian, who often wore a Polish maid outfit.

Don't ask.

Caspian was in his room, showing Lucy and Edmund the little royal trinkets he had brought with him. Why he was bringing the Pevensies' royal gifts, I don't know. At least he didn't bring Susan's horn to stroke it lovingly or anything. Now THAT would have been controversial, especially with Lilliandil.

I'm getting off-topic here.

Edmund picked up a little dagger. "What's this?"

"That's a dagger of the Deep Magic!" cried Caspian, eyes widening in alarm. "If two people touch it-"

Edmund tossed it up into the air and caught it. "What happens?"

"Nobody knows," Caspian whispered.

"Why'd you bring it, then?"

Caspian, befuddled, shifted. "I don't know...I just sort of brought..._everything_."

"I can tell," said Lucy dryly.

Edmund reached out his arm to give the dagger to Caspian. The instant Caspian grabbed it, there was something like an electrical shock and...

"I'm short!" screamed Edmund.

Caspian staggered around a bit before propping himself up against a wardrobe. "What happened? What happened?" he cried.

Lucy, by now highly alarmed, fled the room to summon Drinian and the rest. (Who, in the books, were supposed to be handsome. What's up with the movie?)

Edmund ran to the full-length mirror on the other side of the room and shrieked. "What have you done?"

Caspian joined Edmund and looked in the mirror too.

"I am King Caspian! I order you to tell me what you did!" yelled Edmund.

"Excuse me? My brother was High King of-_oh_." The two of them stared at each other, at the mirror, and then back at each other.

At first both of them screamed.

Then neither of them talked.

"No, no, no, no!" Edmund finally yelled. "I will NOT be trapped in this little prepubescent body of yours!"

"Sort the facts, sort the facts," ordered Caspian.

"Okay, well," panted Edmund. "I am King Caspian Ten. And I-" he jabbed a finger at what used to be his own body, "am in YOUR little body!"

"Yours isn't all amazing, either," shot back Caspian. He staggered again, not used to being so tall.

"The dagger," Edmund sputtered. Well, I mean technically, it was Caspian's soul in Edmund's body who said it, "The dagger; it did this!"

"Yes, yes, I figured that out." Edmund in Caspian's body sat down on a chair.

Caspian in Edmund's body sat down as well. "Do we tell them?"

"No, they'll think we're mad," snorted Caspian, who was really Edmund in Caspian's body, who (Caspian) was actually in his (Edmund's) body.

Lucy ran back in with Rhince. "We've got land out there."

Edmund, in Caspian's body, was looking at Caspian (who was really Edmund) in the mirror.

"Slim..." Edmund in Caspian's body mused, running his hands over his stomach, "And a little bit foxy."

Caspian in Edmund's body's mouth dropped open and he sputtered something unintelligible.

Edmund swung around to face Lucy and Rhince, who both looked slightly disturbed. In an attempt to look "foxy", Edmund swung his leg out to do a svelte and sassy spin. However, not being used to his (well, Caspian's) height, the Foxy Spin turned into an Awkward Stumble.

"You've seen it," Edmund wiggled his eyebrows at Lucy and leaned in, "You...LIKE IT."

Lucy wrinkled her forehead, "Are you feeling all right, Caspian?"

"Yes, I'M fine, however, HE isn't...oh um...nevermind," Caspian in Edmund's body mumbled.

"Well, we've spotted land, so you can join us on the deck. Drinian says tomorrow morning we can get off," Lucy said, looking quizzically at Caspian (who was really Edmund) and Edmund (who was really Caspian). She and Rhince (who uttered not a peep during this exchange) walked out.

Caspian, who was actually Edmund in Caspian's body, glanced at Edmund, who was really Caspian in Edmund's body, who (meaning Edmund) was actually in his (meaning Caspian's) own body (still meaning Caspian's).

Edmund, well technically, Caspian in Edmund's body sighed and launched himself out to the deck, leaving Edmund, who was in Caspian's body (not Caspian as in the soul, who was currently in Edmund's body, but Caspian the shell body) to gather his nerve and follow after.

"Don't mess anything up after this, you hear?" Caspian in Edmund's body muttered fiercely to Edmund in his (Caspian's body).

"It _was_ funny though," Edmund grinned.

"For me, it wasn't!"

**

* * *

**

Caspian (but, really, Edmund) woke up. He began his usual morning routine by stumbling to the mirror to see if his preteen face has sprouted any facial hairs.

By the Lion's mane!

"LUCY! LUCY!" Edmund shrieked excitedly, running around the ship in his Aslan boxers.

"What? What's wrong?" Lucy said, alarmed.

Edmund in Caspian's body grabbed her shoulders and wildly gestured to his face, "I HAVE A BEARD!"

"...yes..." Lucy said slowly.

"A BEARD! A BEARD! Oh boy, and Caspian thought he was all manly with his...oh...wait," Edmund started and nearly knocked over a sailor with his (Caspian's) awkwardly long limbs.

"Are you sure you're all right? You've been acting strangely lately," Lucy said.

"Um...coffee. Need coffee to function. Haha. Bye," Caspian (Edmund) said sheepishly and scuttled off.

**

* * *

**

Edmund (Caspian in Edmund's body) reached down and scooped water into a little shell. The shell shimmered; pure gold.

"One could make fortune!" crowed Edmund (the body Edmund, Caspian was technically in Edmund). "I could have a kingdom!"

"You do," snorted Caspian. (Not Caspian the person, but Caspian the body, which was currently occupied by Edmund)

"Nobody hears about this island, agreed?" Edmund stood up, and the Caspian soul inside still felt a little squished in his new body. "NOBODY."

"Nobody has to listen to you," retorted Caspian, and the Edmund soul inside felt a little stretched. "I'm the King."

"Yes, you will," growled Caspian, well actually, growled Edmund, but you see, it was really Caspian just in Edmund's body.

Caspian folded his arms. "I am King Edmund the Just, and I am _ordering_ you to-"

But Edmund had unsheathed his sword and was holding it at Caspian's neck. (Translation: Caspian had unsheathed Edmund's sword, since Caspian was of course in Edmund's body, and was holding it at his former body's neck, whom Edmund was currently occupying)

Caspian (Edmund in Caspian's body, do I really need to keep clarifying this?) took out his own sword and took a stance.

Edmund (Caspian in Edmund's body, technically) swung the sword, screaming something about I Thought You'd Keep Your Sword Fighting Skills Sharp as he attempted to lop off Caspian's arm.

Caspian, sputtering something about Well I Really Didn't Anticipate This Happening Either, and Honestly Do _You _Ever Practice?

They hesitated. If they lopped off each other's limbs - and possibly, heads or other vital parts - it would be like killing yourself. Like...chopping off your own arm. Or leg. Or head, or other vital parts.

In that split second, Lucy shrieked and threw herself between them. "You blokes are ALL the same, all the same," she scolded.

Caspian glanced at Edmund and mouthed "she doesn't know." Edmund sighed and put his sword back. Caspian did the same.

Lucy's voice was rising in volume, and Edmund the Mind in Caspian's Body knew she would get shoutier and shoutier until she burst into tears.

"Okay, okay, we're good now," Caspian assured her. When that didn't work, he said a little louder, "Lu! Cut it out now!"

Lucy eyed him. For a second there, he almost sounded like...Edmund.

"I mean..." Caspian straightened and cleared his throat, then staggered back as the action threw him off balance. "Blimey, I'm not used to being this ta-" he began, then snapped his mouth shut.

Edmund took another longing look at the Goldwater. _Anything_, thought Caspian in Edmund's body. _I can turn anything into gold._

"No," snapped Caspian, knocking Caspian the Mind out of his gold-induced trancelike state. His arms flailed a bit as he gained control of his limbs again, and he led them back up out of the cave.

"But..." Edmund pouted. "You know I'm the king, Ed-I mean, uh, Caspian, and..." He fumbled about with his words.

"This way," insisted Caspian. He stumbled about, legs unsure about the commands the brain was sending them.

Edmund huffed and followed.

**

* * *

**

"Well, we can't just take him on board." Drinian tapped his foot impatiently.

Lucy looked back at the now dragoned-Eustace. "Well, we can't just_ leave_ him here."

"We'll stay," said Caspian. "He's my cou-uh, I mean, the Pevensies' cousin, after all."

Edmund nodded, a little too eagerly. "Drinian, we'll stay the night. I mean, er, Caspian, how about you tell Drinian-"

Caspian quickly added, "Yes, Drinian. Take the ship around the...thing...and we'll wait here."

Drinian bowed. Then he stomped off towards the ship muttering about the kind of stuff that would come out of a dragon after it's eaten, and how disgusting and unsanitary it all must really be.

"I'll find Eustace," said Edmund.

Caspian (Ed) exchanged a very meaningful look with his (Edmund's) own body (that Caspian was in).

"I'll go, too," announced Caspian. He flailed about for a moment before catching up with Edmund's body.

It was truly quite a lovely day. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, but there didn't need to be any, because all the clouds were displayed in Edmund's face.

"I," bit out Caspian in Edmund's body as soon as they were out of sight and hearing range of anyone else, "Am. Tired. Of. THIS!"

Caspian huffed. "Please stop pouting. You make me look bad when you pout like that." He paused to inspect what had once been his own body. "Although I _really_ didn't think I was that skinny."

"Only if you stop bumbling about, giving me a bad name," Edmund grumbled. "Look at yourself!"

"I am," snapped Caspian. "Problem being, _me_ and _myself_ seemed to have been separated."

Edmund did nothing but snort disdainfully. After all, it had been him who'd brought that stupid dagger on board. Suddenly he ground to a halt. "Oh," said Edmund (well, Caspian in Edmund's body). Then he said, a little more forcefully, "_Oh_."

Caspian frowned, well, Edmund frowned inside of Caspian's body. "What's up now, Caspian?"

Edmund began to rifle through Caspian's hair, giggling gleefully. "It's not often you get to see the back of your own head," Caspian in Ed's body explained. He continued to paw Edmund's (Caspian's/his own) hair.

Edmund, alarmed, commanded his Caspian-body to turn around; he managed a sort of backwards belly-flop, righted himself and faced Edmund (Caspian, in Edmund). "Caspian..." Caspian said. "Look at the rocks..."

"Gold?" They exchanged yet another meaningful look. I mean heck, next best thing to a mirror. Then the dirt beneath his foot began to crumble. "Caspian!" Caspian yelped.

"Ed!" Edmund leapt forward, but found himself sliding downwards as well.

_So this is where and when and how we die_, thought Edmund in Caspian's body.

"Oy." Edmund stood up slowly and tested out his motor skills. "Ed? You okay?"

Caspian opened his eyes, disappointed. "I thought that maybe...if we died...it would all go back." He shrugged.

They exchanged another longing, meaningful look.

"One more day," murmured Edmund. "One more day in this blasted body and I swear I'll bite someone's head off if I can't get back."

Caspian raised a finger. "What would happen if we did it again? Touched it together, I mean."

Edmund shook his head. "Sorry, Ed. We would die."

"Caspian!" Caspian shouted. "We nearly died touching it the first time anyways!"

"Edmund!" mimicked Edmund. He was about to launch into a full blown imitation of Edmund, but then Caspian shoved him and pointed to a pile of clothes.

"Eustace!" howled Caspian.

"He was only a kid," said Edmund, which really didn't help. "Sorry about your cousin."

Caspian sighed, then spotted something...something treacherous, something unfathomable, something truly, truly that was a sign of the end coming.

A boom mic.

"We're being filmed," he hissed. "Gotta act it opposite again."

"OH, EDMUND," said Edmund in Caspian's body loudly. "I AM SOOOO SORRY ABOUT EUSTACE. HE WAS YOUR COUSIN, WASN'T HE?"

"YES HE WAS," shouted Edmund. "THIS SADDENS ME VERY DEEPLY."

"What will I tell Lu?" Caspian suddenly said, head snapping up.

Caspian in Edmund's body faltered as they exchanged yet another bewildered, meaningful look.

**

* * *

**

So this was it, thought Caspian. This was when he was forced to pretend to be Edmund for the rest of his life. This is when he would step out of the world he grew up in, and enter a whole new strange one (the world was round, said the legends!) with Lucy.

Edmund (really Caspian) took a step closer towards the water tunnel. All the people and un-people at home, they would never know. Edmund would be a king again over Narnia, except he'd have a new name: Caspian X.

Caspian (in Ed's body) shuddered. This was it.

Meanwhile, Edmund in Caspian's body was having his own panic attacks. Lucy! She would traipse back into England with Eustace, and...and...Caspian! They would suspect nothing, and leave him behind. Edmund Pevensie, nevermore. Hello, King Caspian.

Caspian in Edmund's body gulped down tears. He would never be a king again, never have a - sob! - beard again. Well, the least he could do is give one final good-by to his body.

"Listen," said Caspian in Edmund's body to Edmund in Caspian's body urgently, "if anything goes wrong, I mean, back at home, Trumpkin will know what to do. And, um, tell Lilliandil..." Caspian felt a whole new shudder run through his (well, Edmund's) body. He would never get to marry that beautiful star, that lovely Lilliandil, the one who probably gave cancer to half of his crew but oh well. "Tell Lilliandil, that...that I, well, I mean, that you love her. Deal?"

Edmund in Caspian's body offered a weak smile. "Well, um, don't act to shocked to find out the sun doesn't actually set in the ocean." He patted Caspian's back, which was really like patting his own back, which was rather odd. When his hand connected, there was a tingling sensation.

Caspian in Edmund's body felt it too. "Do you think," stammered Edmund (Caspian). "I mean, do you really think, that..."

Edmund in Caspian's body was still giving his bits of advice. "Don't use up the candles in the house. We have something called Electricity in our world, and you need to just press a little switch and the room will be lit. And by the Lion's mane, Caspian, don't ask stupid questions..."

The worst thing for Caspian in Edmund's body was to work up the courage. Finally, he steeled himself...

and hugged himself.

There was that jolting charge of energy between them again, like that first day when they touched that item of the Deep Magic. Edmund felt himself shrinking back to his original height, and Caspian's soul felt like it was released from the Bonds That Are Ed's Body.

Caspian looked down at his chest and saw a purple shirt. "I'm...I'M ME!" he bellowed with pure joy. Here I will refrain from any cliche similes that involve trapped animals and cages.

Edmund reached up a hand and desperately felt his chin. Smooth, all smooth. He was back! Back in his own body! He just wanted to hug his body, he was so thankful to have it back. On the other hand, that would pretty much look like Edmund hugging himself, and Aslan was there, too, so...

"I thought! I thought...!" screamed Caspian, jumping up and down.

"I DID TOO!" Edmund said, throwing his head back and whooping. Twice. Very loudly.

Lucy and Eustace looked very confused as Edmund - in Edmund's body! - joined them. Aslan gave him a knowing lion-smile.

Caspian - in Caspian's body! - grinned and gave a sad wave to the Pevensies and Scrubb.

"It was definitely more than a mile," said Edmund to Lucy quietly as they entered the water tunnel. "But hey, I got to have a beard."

And to this day, Lucy Pevensie does not understand quite what happened on that Voyage.


	14. We Never Did See Harold's Face

"Hi, Uncle Harold. I went to the market, but there were only turnips. Carrots are still not available." Lucy breezed into the kitchen and set a large paper bag onto the counter.

"All right," replied Uncle Harold from behind his newspaper.

"Funnily enough, they _did_ have butter." She smiled triumphantly. "And guess how many pounds it was!"

Edmund sauntered in and peeked into the grocery bag. "Um, two hundred quid?" he guessed.

"Not that you would know," Lucy said, rolling her eyes. "You were off trying to enli-"

Edmund waved his hands around frantically, motioning for her to, well, shut up. His eyes went round and huge.

"...you were busy," corrected Lucy. She looked back at her uncle.

"Mmm," he offered. He turned a page of his paper.

"What are the papers saying?" Lucy asked, coming around the counter to stand next to her brother.

"Oh..." Uncle Harold jiggled the pages a bit to get the fold to even out. "Just the usual, Lucy, dear."

"Nothing?" Lucy asked. "How are things in the Atlantic?"

"The Germans caught two ships yesterday...why?" Harold flipped over another long page.

Lucy's eyes went wide. "Because _my family_ is sailing the Atlantic!" she screamed.

"Ah, now, let's not shout and disturb the others, shall we?" Harold said absentmindedly.

Lucy's hands went onto her hips. "You know, Uncle Harold, I know that it was inconvenient and all for you to open your house to us, but you have _not _been the model host."

"Hmm, Lucy?" Harold foot shifted on the floor.

"For starters, I've never even seen your FACE!" she exclaimed. "I mean, what's up with that?"

"Yeah," Edmund chimed in. "You're our uncle, after all."

"Very well, young children..." Harold sighed. He crinkled the pages back into a position where they could be folded. "Your wish is my command."

For the first time in months, he lowered his paper and revealed his smiling face.

It took a second for the connection to hit Lucy. She blinked.

Look again, said her brain.

We are, insisted her eyes.

Uncle Harold was...Hitler?


	15. We're in Narnia 111eleven!

**(Explanation for this nonsense: So, you know how when they're first in the ocean, and Edmund goes "We're in Narnia!"? Well, they weren't. They were many, many kilometres away from Narnia. So this is my weird expansion of that little scripting glitch)**

Edmund and Lucy Pevensie were exploring their aunt and uncle's house because, frankly, there wasn't anything else to do.

There was Uncle Harold, who never showed his face, and always was reading the paper.

There was Aunt Alberta, who told all the children to do their homework, clean their rooms, clean their homework, and not to look at her with that tone of voice.

There was Eustace; he insisted on calling the younger Pevensie siblings "orphans", even in the trailer, much to some fans' horror. When he wasn't planting preposterous ideas in the viewers' minds, he also amused himself by creating insulting assonances.

There was also the pantry. Edmund insisted in revering the kitchen as much as he revered Winston Churchill. Needless to say, the rationing wasn't helping this growing young bloke and he appeared to be even skinnier than he was in the last movie. Under normal circumstances, this might seem outrageous, especially since in the last movie he was so skinny, one could see his skinniness underneath all his armor...I digress.

So anyway, Edmund and Lucy were wandering around the house when they found the door to the attic.

"Aunt Alberta never told us about this," Lucy noted, reaching out to brush dust off the doorknob.

Edmund snorted. "She never tells us anything."

Lucy opened the door with ease and the two siblings climbed up the stairs and stood in the middle of a musty attic.

"WE'RE IN NARNIA!" screamed Edmund. He began to frantically run across the support beams, his foot nearly going through and closely avoiding descent into the kitchen ceiling below.

"No...we're not." Lucy tilted her head. "This is...the...attic."

Edmund paused, hand hovering over a pile of boxes. "What?" he sputtered. "This isn't Narnia?"

"Um. No." Lucy raised an eyebrow. "How about we...go downstairs," she suggested.

Edmund, embarrassed at his overreaction, sheepishly trailed after his little sister as she reached for the wrong door. The two, expecting to be back in the little hallway they had just left, found themselves in some sort of extra bathroom.

"WE'RE IN NARNIA! I CAN FEEL IT!" Ed squealed, rushing to the toilet. "Look at the size of this goblet, Lu!"

Lucy, for her part, did not call the local insane asylum and request a professional team to come over ASAP. "That's a toilet, Edmund," she informed him gently. "And this is just a bathroom."

Soothingly, she took his arm and led him out. "We're still in Uncle Harold and Alberta's house, you see?"

Deflated, Edmund sighed. "I thought for sure-"

"That we took the wrong door," Lucy quickly corrected.

The younger Pevensie siblings went back downstairs and entered the kitchen.

"Hello, Aunt Alberta. Hello, Pantry," Edmund greeted lovingly. He opened the thin wooden door to the backyard and began to scream.

"NARNIA! IT'S NARNIA, LUCY!" He leaned down and began kissing the ground.

Lucy poked her head out into the cold air. "Definitely not," she said decisively.

"What?" Edmund's head came up again, mouth full of grass.

"I said, it's NOT," Lucy repeated. She huffed and threw her hands up into the air. "Why do I even try?"

**Hello, I'm a page break. So nice to meet you. **

When Edmund, Lucy, and Eustace finally made to the real, legit, magical land, Edmund freaked out.

"We're in Narnia!" he cried exuberantly, triumphant at last to be right.

King Caspian frowned down at him. "No, you're not."

"But...but...you're here," stammered Edmund.

"We're hundreds of miles away from Narnia," Caspian replied-slash-snorted.

"Not even close," added Lucy.

"But we're in the _universe_ of Narnia," said Edmund desperately.

"Very true," said Caspian, and some terribly-done CG men jumped out of the boat and into the water with way over-done motion blur.


	16. Lord Bern has a Rly Big Beard & Too Old

Caspian and Edmund woke up again in a most disagreeable state. Instinctively, Caspian's hand flew up to his chin.

Good. His beard was still there. Caspian let out a sigh of relief.

"Are you awake?" Edmund whispered, blinking in the dark room…cell…thing.

"No, I'm just sleep-talking," Caspian whispered back. Edmund looked alarmed. "Hey, hey, I was kidding. I'm awake."

"Where are we?" Edmund sneezed and propped himself up onto his elbows, ignoring a pounding headache.

Caspian thought about it. "Well, we landed on an island, right?"

"Yeah. Island." Edmund's memory cycled back through the most recent twenty-four hours. "And then, attacked."

"Ambush," agreed Caspian. "Um….slavers?"

"Slavers!" yelped Edmund.

"SLAVERS!" repeated Caspian, getting excited because Edmund was getting excited.

"SLAVERS?" Edmund screamed, because Caspian was screaming.

"SLAVERS?" Caspian cried, because Edmund was looking distressed.

"SLAVERS?" Edmund howled, because Caspian was starting to sob.

The two of them began to mount in their hysterics, each one feeding off the other's panic. They stood up and began to punch and slap the walls, thinking that maybe for some unknown reason the cell would just collapse if they did.

Suddenly they bumped into a man.

"AGGGH!" they shrieked, jumping back.

"I come in peace," the man said, holding his fingers up and separating the 4th and 5th from the 2nd and 3rd.

"Uh…wrong fandom," Edmund said. "And who are you anyway?"

"Lord Bern," said the guy.

"You have quite a beard," mused Caspian jealously.

"I've been growing on it since I was twelve," said Bern proudly.

"So how long has that been?" Ed asked suspiciously. He wished he had his sword.

"About eighty years, give or take," said Bern thoughtfully.

"Um." Edmund frowned. "You're not supposed to be…that old."

"Of course I am!" cried Bern. "Didn't you read the book?"

"I did," said Edmund. "And you are definitely not supposed to be that old."

Caspian was still impressed. "Do you have to comb it out every morning?" he wanted to know.

"Three times a day, and after every meal," Bern informed him. "Especially after something messy, like ketchup."

"Do you curl it for special occasions?" Caspian wondered.

"Of course!" said Bern, as if only the daft _didn't_ curl theirs. "I find it's best to put it in curlers the night before, to get that luscious, full-body volume."

"Hey," Edmund said, feeling put out because he didn't have a beard to talk about. "Lord Bern, about your age."

"I do lots of deep conditioning when on the water, like now," Caspian told Bern.

"That's wonderful!" Bern cried. "Your beard will love you for all the moisture."

Edmund cleared his throat and tried again. "Your age," he reminded them.

"Ah, my lad." Bern chuckled. "Yes, I looked into a Time Vortex accidently and aged automatically fifty years."

"Time what?" Edmund sputtered.

"Vortex," snapped Bern. "Now, King…"

"Yes?" said Edmund automatically.

"…Caspian," finished Bern. "Do you use hot oil treatments every month on your beard?"

Caspian nodded proudly. "Not a split end in sight."


	17. High King and Queen Edmund and Lucy

Edmund and Lucy Pevensie stood dripping on the deck of the Dawn Treader, and an equally wet mouse scampered up.

Wait. Why was he wet? We never saw him dive into the water. And if he did, what good would he have done? And why would they spend all that money making CG fur for a mouse, but not have enough budget to cast a stupid Ramandu?

I'm getting beside the point.

"My fellow..." Caspian started, and then realized he had no term for the men standing on the deck. "Um, my fellow...subjects..." No. Now he sounded like a dictator. That was what Miraz might have said. "My fellow...citizens! Sailors! Bloke men chappy things..."

Drinian raised his nonexistent eyebrow.

"Uh, right." Caspian gestured. "These are my friends."

Lucy looked at her friend expectantly.

"High King and Queen of Narnia," Caspian concluded.

Edmund whirled around. "HIGH KING? HIGH KING?" he demanded. "How dare you lower my brother's title! He was appointed by Aslan to be ruler of the nation! HIGH! High! He was the eldest; he had the most responsibility; he EARNED that right to be High King, and here you are, shoving around these titles as if...as if..." he panted.

"As if you assumed they would never, ever be back!" Lucy continued, her face turning red. "Look at the disgrace you've heaped upon every single man, mouse, and minotaur (ooh, hey, alliteration) who has been forced to listen to such blasphemies," she spat.

Edmund had caught his breath again. "And you think Susan was 'High Queen', huh? Well, she wasn't! She was the eldest sister and she ruled Narnia just as well as the whole lot of us, but she was never, never, EVER a high queen. So before you fill your head with these foolish notions-"

"-the audacity!" cried Lucy. She stamped her foot and Edmund looked as if he might snatch a sword from someone's belt at any moment.

Caspian's mouth popped open. "Perhaps, we needed a pause there." He cleared his throat and said a bit louder, "Hi, King and Queen of Narnia."

"Hi, King and Queen of Narnia," every repeated in their best AA meeting voice.


	18. Rhince Has a Back Story!

_Hey guys! Guess what guess what guess guess guess! I hit ONE HUNDRED freaking reviews! Yeah! Kudos for **aecul** for sticking her review in just at the right moment. I didn't even think this little dinky story would make it to TEN. XD You Narnians (And Tolkienists, and Hogwartians, and Whovians, and Trekkies...goodness knows how many references I've made to other fandoms :P) are BRILLIANT! FANTASTIC! And cool. Very cool. _

* * *

My name is Rhince, and this is my back story. This is the story of Narnia, and how I ended up on the Dawn Treader.

This is the story of how I died.

Waaaaaaait, scratch that. It's not nearly so dramatic as that. See, the script writers had this brilliant idea to give me a "back story". Naturally, I assumed the wanted the history of my back, but when I handed them a thirty-page manuscript describing my spinal column and the true ribs versus false ribs, they got really mad.

_No, _they said. _No, we want to make a tragic story-line that will tug at the viewers' heartstrings. _

I suggested they include my niece, Gael. They went ahead with the idea and spent all their budget on a little girl who took forever in Hair & Makeup and couldn't even act. That's why they had no money left to cast Ramandu.

But this isn't about Ramandu, or Gael, or even about Fox budgets.

This is about my back. My back story, my past, and my spine. My back. We need to talk about my back story.

WAIT GUISE HOW DO I DO A PAGE BREAK NEVER MIND THIS IS ONE

So, I was like born. Then this casting director's like "Hey! We hire you!" And I was like, "Wut."

Then I got hired and got a lot of money and even secured my niece a job.

Yep! My back story! Now about my back...

When I was seven, I was playing with my friends when I slipped in a puddle and fell on my spine. It hurt a lot. But my mum said it was nothing.

Then, when I was twelve, I crashed into a stone wall (don't ask how that happened, please don't ask; this is embarrassing). I got a big bruise on my back. It was cool, so I showed it to my friends.

Um um um. Then, I think when I was twenty or so something in my spine slipped and I was bed-ridden for two weeks.

My back is really, actually very cool. It makes up, like, half my height or something like that. Or is that the femur? I can never remember. Anyway, so it's cool and yeah. The story of my back.

Rhince out.

It sounds retarded when I say "Rhince out", because it needs to be like, you know, "Ben Farmhouses" out. I don't even have a last name.

THEY WENT THROUGH ALL THIS TROUBLE OF GIVING ME A BACK STORY AND I DON'T HAVE A LAST NAME?

Frick this. I quit.

At least the BBC gives everyone a last name.


	19. Sacrifices and Sherlock or something

Author's note of apology: This got so sidetracked, I'm not even sure what the point of this chapter is. _You_ decide what it's about. XD

* * *

Edmund stuck a foot into the stone wall and screamed.

"Oh my word!" he screeched. "That HURTS!"

"Well," mused Bern. "It _is_ stone."

Caspian puffed out his chest, stepped over, and kicked the rock as well. "AGH!" he yelped.

Bern sighed and muttered something about monarchs, and how they don't make them the same these days.

Edmund hooked a toe into a gap and launched himself up. "Hey, look, guys!" he waved at Caspian and Bern from his vantage point. "I can see people from here!"

"My turn!" whined Caspian, tugging at Edmund's foot. He dislodged a boot, and with a scream they both tumbled onto their backs. Bruised, they stood back up and stared at each other, hands on hips, pouting.

Bern swallowed back another puffy-cheeked sigh.

Caspian stomped away from the window and began to pace. Edmund resumed his position at the small window.

"Dude, there's a boat full of people heading out," he called. His breath fogged the glass and he had to wait before he could see anything again. "HEY! Green Mist! It's the Green Mist of Doom!"

"It has begun," gasped Bern dramatically, throwing a limp hand onto his chest. "THE...THE _SACRIFICES_!" He buried his face in his other hand and began to sob.

"What?" Caspian said.

Bern screamed in anguish and took a hand off his chest to completely cover his face. "No, nooooooo," he moaned.

"Explain," demanded Caspian, beginning to pout again.

"It is the sacrifices," whispered Bern, rocking himself back and forth on the stone floor. "Every first day of the work week...they-they-" another sob cut off his explanation.

"And I thought _my _Mondays were rubbish," whistled Edmund.

"Sacrifice-_hic!-_-the slave-_hic!_-the slaves," Bern sobbed.

"What?" said Caspian.

"They-_hic!_-kill them! _Hic!_ Just dis-_hic!_-they just disa-_-hic_!-disappear into the w-w-a-_hic!_-water!" Bern wailed.

"Interesting," mused Caspian. "Why?"

"He just said it," Edmund interrupted. "They have to sacrifice people to the Green Mist of Doom. Which now, apparently, has a big appetite." He paused. "Like me."

"People are sacrificed to you?" gasped Caspian.

"No!" Edmund sighed. "I mean, I have a big appetite, too."

"Who told them to sacrifice people to the Hungry Green Mist of Doom?" Edmund wanted to know, turning to Bern.

"Ummmmm," Bern went through his mental files. "Not sure, actually."

"The Hungry Moody Green Mist of Doom," said Edmund. "Okay, we're working up a profile for this thing." The crime books he'd read were coming in handy.

"So they send boatloads of people to be eaten by it," Bern continued. "And then they're just...gone."

"Hungry Moody Green Abductor Mist of Doom."

"I don't know how long it's been like this," Bern sniffled.

"Everlasting Hungry Moody Green Abductor Mist of Unfathomable Doom," mused Edmund, feeling like Sherlock.

"Wait..." Bern frowned. "I guess there IS no reason for these sacrifices."

"Using deductive reasoning, then, yes, I would also come to that conclusion."

Caspian looked at Edmund. "What's that face?"

"This is my deductive reasoning face," announced Edmund. "And this movie is officially a mystery."


	20. Ninja Lucy Strikes!

"SOLD!" the auctioneer yelled, and swung a sign onto Lucy's neck. Edmund was shuffled up next, then Caspian, then Eustace.

Depressed, they began to trudge towards their new owners when...

"I'll take them ALLLLLL off your hands!" Drinian shouted, dramatically tearing off his hood. The bright sun reflected off his bald head and the auctioneer was instantly blinded.

"Here comes the calvary, a day late and a few quid short," muttered Edmund.

Lucy wasn't listening. She had morphed into Super Ninja Teen Queen Lucy. Head-butting the man in front of her, she broke free and cracked her handcuffs against another man's skull. He screamed and collapsed. Lucy hurled her feet in quick succession at the crown in front of her.

A little bewildered, Edmund turned to the empty space beside him. "...Lu?"

His sister's kicks were landing where the sun don't shine. Edmund winced involuntarily as he watched.

"HUWUALALALBUBBATALAGRAGGGGG!" Lucy roared, spinning in mid-air and cracking more skulls open.

Terrified, the crowds fled from the auctioning yard. Lucy spat on the ground, then spat on her hands, then rubbed her hands together.

"Surprise," she growled. "Who's next?"

Caspian looked impressed. "I wanna have what she's having," he whispered to Edmund.

"It's the cordial," said Edmund. "I think she secretly doses on it."

Crickets chirped and buzzed happily as the Treader crew stared around the empty town square, with Lucy in the middle.

"Um," suggested Caspian. "How about we head back for Narnia? I'm kind of...traumatized now."

"No," snapped Drinian. "Rhince. We need to piece his family back together." He clapped the frightened-looking bloke beside him on the shoulder.

In the audience, several soccer moms made "awww"s and nudged their children and husbands.


	21. Mister Clean & Washing Dishes

This story is dedicated to some rather _brilliant_ NarniaWebbers: **RuralNarniaFan**, **Narnia_Fan12** [aka Captain Jack Harkness heh heh], **malkah**, and **Shastafan**.

* * *

Bored, Eustace Scrubb made his way to the lower deck and watched as Drinian cleaned the ship's dishes.

"Eustace! You little pra-I mean, cousin of our King and Queen," Drinian greeted.

"Hullo." Eustace waved. "What's that?"

"It's called a Magic Eraser," explained Drinian. "I invented it myself. That's why I'm Mr. Clean."

"THE Mr. Clean?" gasped Eustace.

Drinian nodded and proceeded to demonstrate his bald head, his cleverly hidden earring, and the impeccably white shirt. "See? In the flesh."

Eustace stammered something, and looked ready to bow down, but Drinian hauled him to his feet again.

"Why don't you leave now?" Drinian suggested, eyeing the pile of dishes that wouldn't be done if Eustace was distracting him.

Tears welled up in Eustace's face. "I...I don't want to," he whispered. "They'll take away my screen time. Being around the main characters...it's my only chance!" he moaned.

Brat or not, Drinian began to feel sorry for the kid. I mean, this is the movie where the fans need to fall in love with him, and he was human for the grand total of thirty seconds.

"I can wash the plates, too," offered Eustace, wiping his eyes. "I mean...it's better than nothing. The only nice shots I get are random ones into window shutters." He shivered with horror. "Then I become some weird box-headed lizard with wings."

In defense of the concept art team, Drinian began to protest, but Eustace cut him off.

"I'll do this thing if IT KILLS ME!" shouted Eustace, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves.

Drinian sighed. He wouldn't get to clean in peace and quiet, after all. "Okay, kiddo. First things first, have a good supply of Soapespian."

"What's that?" Eustace frowned.

"You don't know what 'soap' is?" Drinian muttered.

"No," insisted Eustace. "You said something else."

"No way," Drinian lied. "Once you have your bottle of Soapespian," he demonstrated with his own supply of suds.

"There it was again!" shouted Eustace, pointing at Drinian's mouth.

"Nuh-uh," insisted Drinian. He lifted a filthy bowl. "So, you Soapespian it well..."

Eustace followed the first mate's example.

"Then you need to Rhince it in hot water," continued Drinian.

"You mean, 'Rinse'," corrected Eustace.

"Yes, that's precisely what I said," huffed Drinian. "Once you're done Rhince-ing..."

Eustace narrowed his eyes and observed Drinian.

"For that super clean feel, especially since we're surrounded by water, I choose to Reepicheep this procedure," said Drinian, soaping the bowl up once again.

"Like, the mouse?" Eustace was confused.

"What mouse?" snapped Drinian. "I said, 'Repeat the Steps'."

"You said...um...'Reepicheep'," Eustace replied.

"Lying little bugger," Drinian muttered, turning back to his now sparkling-clean bowl. "Putting words in my mouth."

Eustace frowned and pouted for a few seconds, before getting back to work and cleaning his plate again.

"Now, you have a lot of suds in here, right?" said Drinian. Eustace nodded numbly. "The last step is to remember to Drainian all the excess water."

"Don't you mean 'Drain' the water?" said Eustace.

"I did," snorted Drinian. He glared at the boy. "Drainian the water."

"Drain," said Eustace. "DRAIN."

"Yeah." Drinian crossed his arms. "Drainian."

Eustace sighed and left the lower deck.


	22. Don't Blame the Green Mist

The boat's passengers looked far from happy.

Well, maybe "boat" is a stretch. It was about the size of a canoe, and fit maybe five people max. Maybe ten. Okay, twenty? I don't really know, because I didn't exactly have time to count how many people were being sacrificed in one Green Mist Batch.

Heck, I didn't have time to figure ANYTHING out.

Mrs. Rhince was in a corner, sobbing her poor minor-character heart out. Gael was back on land, screaming for her mummy and otherwise getting in the way and being annoying.

Did we mention Gael was annoying? Back to Mrs. Rhince.

Bright green mist. Bright, bright, green smoke. Big! Big! It was so bright.

The boat's inhabitants shrieked in terror as the stinging green smoke engulfed them and sucked their oxygen away, and then...

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," said the Mist.

Mrs. Rhince brought her hands away from her wet eyes. "Wh-whu?"

"It's my job," said the Mist apologetically. "A big doom-laden mist monster's gotta do what a big doom-laden mist monster's gotta do."

The man beside Mrs. Rhince snuffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Please," whispered the girl on Mrs. Rhince's other side. "Don't kill us."

"I have orders here, though," said the Mist. A piece of parchment appeared in front of the boat and everyone looked and read _Delivery of Sacrifices 10:30 AM, Kill and Store Leftovers in Freezer. _

"I don't want to die," whimpered the man next to Mrs. Rhince. She placed a sympathetic hand on his arm to calm him, trying not to remember what he was just been wiping it on.

The parchment flipped around several times, as if the Mist was verifying its meaning and checking back and forth. "Yup," it said. "It's definitely you guys."

"I have a daughter," gulped Mrs. Rhince desperately. "Please, I need to go home to my-"

"Orders from higher up, sorry," said the Mist. "I'm Bob, by the way. Wish we could've met under better circumstances."

"Hello, Bob," she managed. "I'm...uh..." Drat it! The audience was supposed to feel emotional connection to her, and she didn't even relieve a name? "My name is...Gaela," she concluded. Close enough.

"Gala? Like the apple?" said the Mist. "I like Gala apples. I don't like caramel apples though. It's hard to dislodge the sticky parts from my tendrils."

"Gaela..." she tried. "Like, uh, my daughter's name. That's why you can't kill me; I need to take care of her!"

"Oh, please." Bob sighed. "I'm paid to do this. I promise it won't be painful...too much." Icy green tendrils began to surround Gaela again, and breathing became impossible. "Ready for this?" asked Bob.

"Wait a sec!" choked Mrs. Rhince.

"What now?" sighed Bob.

"My husband will be looking for me!" she yelped. Bob allowed some air to pass to her lungs. She wheezed. "His name is Rhince. I think...I mean, what if you have the wrong person?"

"I've never made a mistake before," Bob assured her. The onslaught of green smoke paused. "Not that I know of, anyway," he admitted. "Now take a deep breath, and this will be quick."

* * *

Mrs. Rhince woke up with a pounding headache and a very dry mouth. "Halp," she squeaked.

The Mist appeared over her and handed her a glass of water. "You'll need to chill here for the rest of your life," he informed her.

She lifted her head and looked around. It looked like a big lobby...on water. People milled about. People she knew! People who had been sacrificed to the Green Mist.

"What are you doing?" screamed Gaela. She shot up out of her bed.

"Well, _pardon me_," replied Bob. "But I sort of _live_ here."

Mrs. Rhince glanced down at the floor, where various magazines like _The Informed Slaver_ and _Scandalous Satyrs! _were strewn about.

"Sorry about the mess," said Bob. "I wasn't expecting so many visitors. This...employment deal was very sudden."

"Deal with who?" demanded Mrs. Rhince.

"Um." The Mist shifted. "I'm not sure if I should say. I need to kill you anyways."

Gaela screamed and launched herself off of the bed, only to find that a forcefield was blocking her escape. The Mist was spreading again.

"OI! YOU STOP THERE!" a man yelled. Bob paused. "The boss," he whispered to Mrs. Rhince.

"You can't kill her!" shouted the old man. "I need her for the syrupy reunion at the end! Otherwise, the ending wouldn't be perfect, and we can't have that happening!"

Bob sighed. "Don't kill her, kill her, don't kill her," he muttered. "Let me know when you make up your puny little mind."

The old man nodded and strutted back to his director's chair.

"Feel free to visit the game room while you're here," he offered. "Michael will let you know when he needs you. You can play billiards if you're bored."

"I think I will," sniffed Mrs. Rhince. "Good riddance. The things we Narnians have to endure for this silly Apted-ation."


	23. The Moldy Bread Sword

"Okay," announced Caspian. "I think we're just about ready to leave this island, yeah?"

Edmund agreed. "Couldn't get away faster."

"But..." Lucy frowned.

Ed sighed. "What now? Some random islander caught your eye?"

"No!" Lucy sighed. "I mean, but, back when we were ruling, I was pretty sure...well, I was pretty sure it was the Lone Islands."

"Yeah." Caspian adjusted his belt. "Lone Island. That's where we are."

"Islands," corrected Lucy. "As in, three islands making up...well, Lone Islands."

Caspian and Edmund thought about this. Finally Caspian lifted a finger. "Point," he said. Then he began to walk off towards the ship. "Never mind that, though! We're off to the next one! Can't waste time! Island after island, BANG BANG BANG!" He made a gun motion with his hands and Edmund wondered where he'd learned that.

The Pevensie siblings began to follow the king when they bumped into an old guy.

"Bern!" said Edmund. "You got out." He paused. How'd you get out?"

"To give you this gift," croaked Bern, really playing up the old-man-scraggly-voice thing. "I present you...the Moldy Bread Sword." He handed Edmund what once might have been a breadstick.

"Wow...thanks?" Edmund managed, trying not to smell it. In the background, Lucy gulped back a gag.

"It's a very sacred gift," Bern explained. He cleared his throat, and Ed suspected a long speech was about to commence. "Grand Coulee Dam is a gravity dam on the Columbia River in the U.S. state of Washington built to produce hydroelectric power and provide irrigation. It was constructed between 1933 and 1942, originally with two powerplants. The third Powerplant was completed in 1974 to increase its energy production. It is the largest electric power-producing facility in the United States and one of the largest concrete structures in the world."

Lucy groaned quietly and sat down on the random bench by the wall.

Bern continued."Torchwood is a British science fiction television programme created by Russell T Davies. The series is a spin-off from Davies' 2005 revival of the long-running science fiction programme Doctor Who, which has a family audience. Torchwood, however, is aimed at a mature audience. As a show, Torchwood has transitioned its broadcast channel every year since its inception, moving from BBC Three to BBC Two to BBC One, and acquiring US financing in its fourth series."

Edmund suppressed a yawn and plopped down next to his sister.

Bern coughed, took a swig of wine, and kept on: "A stub is an article containing only a few sentences of text which — though providing some useful information — is too short to provide encyclopedic coverage of a subject, and which is capable of expansion. Sizable articles are usually not considered stubs, even if they lack wikification or copy editing. With these articles, a cleanup template is usually added instead of a stub template. Note that if a small article has little properly sourced information, or if its subject has no inherent notability, it may be deleted or be merged into another relevant article. Non-article pages, such as disambiguation pages, categories, templates, talk pages, and redirects, are not regarded as stubs."

"Is he just rattling off random Wikipedia articles?" murmured Lucy sleepily. She glanced at the Moldy Bread Sword in Edmund's lap.

"Christian Science is a system of thought deriving from the writings of Mary Baker Eddy based on her interpretation of the Bible. It is practiced by members of The First Church of Christ, Scientist as well as some others who are non-members. Elms are deciduous and semi-deciduous trees comprising the genus Ulmus, family Ulmaceae. Elms first appeared in the Miocene period about 40 million years ago. Originating in what is now central Asia, the tree flourished and established itself over most of the Northern Hemisphere, traversing the Equator in Indonesia. During the 19th and early 20th centuries, many species and cultivars were planted as ornamentals in Europe, North America, and parts of the Southern Hemisphere, notably Australasia," Bern announced, not noticing that his audience was nearly asleep, or at least nearly ready to kill him.

"Definitely random articles," moaned Edmund, thinking of the trolls who would copy and paste Wiki articles onto comments.

Finally Bern gasped for breath and Edmund interrupted him. "Bern...um, why give it to me?"

Bern looked confused. "Didn't I just tell you?"

"No...you just wittered on about elm trees and Doctor Who spinoffs," muttered Lucy.

"Ah, my girl," began Bern. Panicked, she cut him off quickly.

"I mean-" she sputtered. "What's it do, anyways?"

"The sacred gift of the Moldy Bread Sword," he said solemnly. "Generations pass it down to generations, until a brave young recipient is chosen."

"Brave?" snorted Lucy. Edmund shoved her.

"May you keep it always with you," pronounced Bern. "The Moldy Bread Sword is said to keep its master full of luck and wealth."

"Geez," said Edmund. "I guess I should have been culturing my own, all this time."

Bern looked aghast. "Sacred, my son! This is a sacred weapon of both destruction, death, devastation-oh, that's a lot of D-words." The senile man became distracted again. "Dolphin also starts with a D. So does Denmark. But that's a country, not a word...or is it a word?"

"Thanks a ton," said Edmund after a few more minutes. "We should...be going now, though."

"Yep," agreed Lucy. "Ship. Caspian. Waiting. Us. Go." She pointed to the shore.

- - -{,_,"} { ",_,}- - -

TAKE NOTE OF THE TWO MICE SNIFFING EACH OTHER

Edmund sat on the upper deck and stared at his "sacred" sword. He poked it. At least it didn't move. He grabbed a knife and began to stab it.

Some crusty who-knows-what (probably Bern's snot, Edmund guessed) fell off, so he kept on stabbing the sword.

Several hours later, Edmund Pevensie was surrounded by shavings of barnacles and dried snot, and he held an ex-breadstick in his hands.

"Wow," he observed. "Sacred indeed."

Lucy walked by and wrinkled her nose."That smells awful."

"But it's a WHOLE BREADSTICK!" Edmund cried.

She sighed, muttered something about teenage boys, and walked away.

Caspian walked by. "THAT LOOKS DELICIOUS!" he cried. He grabbed a chunk off one rotten end and popped it into his mouth.

"I'll serve it to the whole ship," promised Drinian, taking the piece of moldy ex-bread.

And that's how the entire crew got bedridden for three whole weeks. Not that you ever heard about it. Apted cut that part out.

"Rule Number One: never get nitty-gritty with this," Apted once said to me.

"..." I replied. "But there was an epic battle in the other one. Two epic battles. And a duel."

At that point Apted shot up from his cafe chair and stomped off. And that's why kids, you never write a whole story insulting a director and then ask him for a cafe interview.


	24. Hipster Dawn Treader

Edmund and Lucy boarded the ship and looked puzzled. Something was wrong. The rest of the crew and monarchy was seated in strange inflatable sofas and purple beanbags.

"Is everything...okay?" Lucy finally asked.

Caspian leaned back in his swivel stool made out of imported bamboo and took a puff from his organic herbal cigar. "Everything is chill, sweetheart," he assured her. He stood up and offered her and her brother some all-natural, fair trade Sumatra tea. "Stay chill. But not too chill. Cos then that would be un-chill."

"Thanks," said Edmund, and helped himself to an air-filled couch. "What's that sound?" It wasn't the constant swearing of the sailors, and neither was it the high-pitched wittering of Reepicheep.

"It's an old vinyl Drinian managed to purchase," Caspian said. "It's so obscure, you've probably never heard of it." He sighed and took another drag from his cigar. "Now that band is way too surface." He tutted and shook his head sadly. "They've gone downhill since their first album, which wasn't officially produced, mind you."

Lucy nodded, cautiously, and lowered herself onto a neon beanbag. "Where are we headed to next then, Caspian?"

"A place so far away you've probably never heard of it," said Drinian, setting down his brand-less orange soda. "The coordinates are too complex for you."

"That's sexist!" cried Lucy indignantly.

"Rynelf!" called Drinian, and the crewman quickly propped his ironic monocle onto his right eye.

"Yes, Duke?" Rynelf asked (First Mate is way too mainstream).

"I need you to rebuild this entire ship, one side and then the other," said Drinian. "Using only recycled metals, organic matter, and hemp."

"I'll get it done," promised Rynelf, and scuttled off to find a large bucket of hemp.

Meanwhile, Caspian had a recyclable-ink pen and organic-banana-tree bark paper out and was composing a romantically theoretical poem to his star, Lilliandil. He thoughtfully stroked his hipster beard.

_"Roses are surface _

_And violets are retro _

_I like to fuel my Vespa with petrol _

_I made you a mixtape of indie tracks _

_And threw together a plate of vegan snacks,"_ he mused.

"That's...interesting," offered Lucy. Then she noticed that Caspian had changed his outfit.

"Do you like it?" he asked. Then, "You don't have to like it. In fact, the patterns are so complex you'll probably never understand."

"No," Lucy said quickly. "Plaid and polka dots go...well...on you..." she managed.

"I like to live dangerously," said Caspian proudly, then began to sketch deep, experimental art on the back of his postcard to Lilliandil.

"King Caspian-" Edmund began.

"Not king!" gasped Caspian. "I don't conform to labels," he sniffed. "Anyways, you can call me Pharaoh."

"Um, right then, Pharaoh," muttered Edmund.

Drinian popped in another indie band record and pulled up the anchor.

"So," prompted Edmund again. "After this is Dragon Island, right? And then once he's all sorted out, we head to Deathwater." He slapped his copy of Voyage of the Dawn Treader down. "I'm ready for it."

Everyone stared at him in hipster horror. Someone's monocle even fell off. Luckily, there wasn't actually any lens in it...having lenses in your monocle is SO mainstream.

"The book plot is so...so _surface_!" choked Caspian, a nerveless hand dropping his eco-friendly cigar.

"Way too mainstream," agreed Drinian.

"We're going to follow another plotline," said Caspian, giving the Pevensies a patronising smile. "It's probably too complex for you to understand." He then retracted into his own thoughts as he contemplated the deep meanings of that song from the low-fi indie band he'd heard the other day.

Lucy sighed and stomped off towards her own room.

"Time for my double chai caramel latte with skim milk," said Drinian after an awkward pause. He shuffled off too, in his fair trade wooden shoes that were covered in patches of various plaid cloths.

"What IS this song?" Edmund wanted to know.

"It's one of their unreleased tracks," said Rhince, helping himself to the veggie platter, full of obscure plants you've probably never heard of. "It was played live at the local music festival somewhere you've probably never been," he explained. "But it was never released." He sighed. "It's far too multiplex for you to understand."

"LAND HO!" screamed Drinian, and Edmund jumped. When had they reached land so fast? Oh yeah, being restricted in time was way too mainstream. This ship could reach any island in two seconds.

Edmund stared at the island. This wasn't it. He looked at the Pauline Baynes illustrations. Definitely not it! "But-but," he protested.

"Come on," said Caspian. He gestured at the yellow rock formations and the bright sand. "Look how abandoned this place is. Nobody's probably ever heard of it!"


End file.
